


Mid Terms

by The Hunters Angel (ToriCeratops)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Professor Castiel, Public Sex, Rimming, Sex Toys, Sexting, Student Dean Winchester, Teacher Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/The%20Hunters%20Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For such a straight laced college professor, Dr. Novak is sure willing to bend over backwards for Dean a lot.<br/>Sometimes literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dr. Novak has made a lot of mistakes in his life.

Dean Winchester is quickly threatening to become one of the worst.  Castiel is in deep, way deep, with a student no less.  He’s never gone this far off the deep end, hell he’s never even fucked around with someone who he wasn’t in a long term committed relationship with, and here he is, balancing on the edge of reason for a 19 year old with a superiority complex and a list of kinks longer than his dick.

Cas is quickly learning he’s a bad teacher.

Very bad.

He’s bent over his own desk, pants around his ankles and briefs pulled down to his knees, Dean working him open with his fingers and the heat of his tongue until Cas is certain he couldn’t possibly take any more torment.  ”Please.. please, Dean.  Dean I’m..”  He needs to come.  His body is too tight and his toes are curled hard in the confines of his shoes and its all too much.  

There’s a quick nip of teeth into the flesh of his ass and then he hears in that smug voice, “Oh would you look at the time!  I have a test in like five minutes.”  Dean’s tongue is gone but his fingers are still working hard and fast, spreading Cas open.  He presses his body against Cas’, growling in his ear.  ”Don’t want to be late for the mid term do we Professor Novak?”

The emptiness he feels when Dean finally withdraws his hand pulls a needy whine from somewhere deep in Cas which Dean just chuckles darkly at. “Don’t worry baby. I’m not going to leave you empty.” Cas doesn’t even have time to try and figure out what he means by that when he feels cool and solid press at his entrance.

“You.. you said we had to go.” Though he can’t turn and see what Dean is doing, he immediately knows what’s going on when he feels it slide into his body, wider and smaller and even wider again. It’s enough of a stretch he knows he’ll need to be worked up again, that he’s fallen back from the edge of reason and there is certainly not enough time for that.

Cas groans when Dean plays with the toy, spinning it around until it presses against he prostate and making him shout, Dean’s clean hand immediately covering his mouth to keep Cas quiet. “I need you to be open and ready for me to fuck you after this test Dr. Novak.” Dean flicks his tongue against the shell of Cas’ ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “I’ve been told it’s the hardest one of the semester and I have a feeling I’m going to need a little stress relief after.”

Without any further warning, Dean lifts Cas’ underwear and pants. He doesn’t exactly put them all back in place perfectly, but he tucks Cas’ red and swollen cock in so that it won’t be painfully obvious when he fastens his pants – not before giving it a long, hard stroke of course. “Fuck you Winchester.” Cas’ legs shake and he thunks his head on the desk to try and ignore the need washing through his skin at the touch. “How am I supposed to give a test like this?”

Dean lifts him so they’re both standing, grinning like the cocky son of a bitch he’s been all semester and carding his hand in Cas’ hair, tugging him close for a deep kiss. Despite his frustration, Cas kisses him back in earnest, licking his lips and moaning when Dean bites him and sucks on his tongue.

“Very carefully my dear Professor.”

And if Cas whines a little more when Dean steps back, winks, and turns to leave then who the fuck cares honestly.

Ten minutes later, focusing heavily on his breathing and trying to ignore not only the way the fabric of his underwear rubs against his still half hard cock and the ever present fullness in his ass, Cas hands out the test to his Old Testament archeology class. Once everyone is focused and heads are all facing down and trying to face their own certain doom, Cas leans against the door to watch them carefully, making certain to not look at the very back corner where Dean has his head down just like everyone else.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes and a few students look around to see where the noise came from. Quickly, he takes it out and gets ready to shut it off completely when he sees who it’s from he stops.

_D: You should sit down._

He glares up at the seat in the back row where Dean is writing studiously on his test paper, no phone in immediate sight.

One, fucking around is one thing but on his phone while taking his test is something else entirely. Two, no way is he sitting down with this plug still stretching him open. It’s only going to make everything worse and he’s not about to make a fool of himself in front of his class. He is, however, about to walk down the row when his phone buzzes in his hand and he quickly sets it to complete silence.

_D: No really. Just sit down._

He takes a deep breath to quell the sparks of pleasure when the toy moves as he pushes off against the wall. No way is Dean getting away with…

“JESUS Ch….” Cas bites his lip, the entire class, save one, popping their heads up to stare at him in shock just as the plug in his ass comes to life and vibrates hard right against his prostate.

“S.. sorry. Just uh.. cut my hand on the uh… hinge. Back to your test.” The vibration dies back down to nothing

Eventually, he makes it to the seat behind the podium, setting his phone on the surface and dropping his head down, crossing his fingers Dean isn’t going to be too much of an ass during the exam. As if his mind is being read, the toy goes off again, a quick burst this time and Cas has to make sure the jerk of his knees doesn’t hit the podium. Apparently he’s letting him know what’s going on so he can be ready, position himself that he won’t make any sudden movements.

_D: I can still taste you on my lips you know._

Cas bites his own lip and slides his hand down below the podium, digging his nails into his knee.

D _: No one can see you when you’re back there. But I know you’re still hard._

He is - harder than he’s been since Dean put this damn thing in him.

 _D: Touch yourself_.

Cas raises his head, looking back at Dean who has finally glanced up and is fucking smirking, just as the vibrations come back, harder. Beneath the podium Cas’ legs shake and he can’t help but acquiesce.

_D: You’re going to come for me professor._

And he seriously doubts that. There’s forty college students sitting right in front of him. If that’s not enough to keep him from letting go he doesn’t know what is. He does, however, press the flat of his palm against his cock through his pants and has to cough to hide the groan that tries to escape.

_D: Right here, while we take this test._

Cas props his head in his hand, elbow against the surface of the podium to try and look uninterested in life in general while he slowly starts moving his fingers against his length. It’s no where near enough, not Dean’s mouth, not his whole hand, not even skin to skin, but it’s all he can do so his arm doesn’t visibly move.

_D: And you’re going to do it thinking about me. How I taste, how my cock his heavy and thick in your mouth when you suck me off._

That’s not something he has a hard time with, just yesterday he’d blown him in the stacks, teasing Dean’s slit with the flick of his tongue, swallowing his length down, letting him fuck into his mouth and down his throat.

_D: I want you to remember how I taste, how hot my come is on your face._

He had tasted like he smelled, like sweat and leather, heavy and smooth on his tongue. When he came he let Cas lap him up, pulling out to let the last few strands criss cross across his face because apparently Dean had a thing for licking himself off of Cas. Off his face, off his lips, off his stomach.

The vibrations go off again, a quick jolt to his senses and Cas bites his lips, cock jerking in his pants beneath his hand.

_D: Think of the way I look when I’m riding your dick._

That had happened once and Cas nearly comes just thinking about it, about the way Dean’s abs tighten and move when he rolls his hips, the way his head lolls back and his mouth goes slack and how even though Cas was splitting him open, that was still Dean’s show, Dean’s ride, taking Cas along with him for all the pleasures and the sins of the flesh that he could dish out.

_D: Fuck I’m hard just thinking about that._

He feels the vibrations increase, rocking his own hips just enough that the toy moves against him but he’s not obvious to anyone else. It’s getting harder and harder to care that he’s got an audience, that he could get caught like this and lose more than his damn job.

_D: You’re the only one I’ve ever let fuck me you know._

He’s fucking losing it, looking up to try and find Dean who’s watching him, licking his lips like he’s starving.  Cas silently pleads with him, for what he knows not.  Certainly not to stop, he’s too far gone for that.   For release?  To be let go, to lose himself and forget that there’s anything between them and that he’s not supposed to touch, and right here, right now it’s all he can think about.

Deep inside the vibrations just get worse, assaulting him with pleasure he can’t control.  He can feel it in his gut, in the tightness of his stomach and the clench in his balls.  Cas really doesn’t even need his hand anymore.

_D: This ass is yours and yours alone, tight and hot for your cock._

Cas comes in his pants, trembling from head to toe with the explosion of pleasure, somehow all the more intense for trying to maintain a calm, expressionless face. He doubts he succeeds, the pull of his orgasm coming from the base of his spine and shocking out through his limbs and down until his toes curl in his shoes and his fingers press hard enough into his skin he thinks he’ll have a bruise.

_D: For your come._

Dean is staring straight at Cas now, biting his bottom lip and breathing heavy, one hand running through the strands of his hair while he completely forgets about his exam. Cas knows he looks wrecked, that his own lips are hanging open and his eyes are lost and glossy while staring Dean down. He’s trying to scowl, he really really is.

Dean just winks and goes back to his test, the vibrations finally dying down and giving Cas a reprieve from the overstimulation.

The next thirty minutes are hell.

As every student finally files out of the classroom, leaving their tests in something that resembles the definition of a ‘stack’ on the front table, Cas remains still in his seat. It’s been long enough that his hands have thankfully stopped shaking and he can form coherent words to those who stop and try and say something to him. One by one they leave the room until at last, the only people left are himself and Dean, who is still leaning back in his desk, feet propped on the seat next to him.

“Dean Winchester I should flunk your ass right now.” He tries to sound menacing, but he’s still too blissed out to give a fuck.

“Nah.” Finally, Dean stands, coming forward to put his own test at the top of the stack. He’s obviously hard, a dark spot on the outside of his pants where he’s probably been leaking the whole time and fuck if that isn’t hot. As soon as the paper leaves his hand he grips Cas by his tie and yanks forward, searing a kiss against his lips and teasing him with his teeth. “I think I’ll just fuck yours.”

Neither of them can move fast enough, two sets of hands working at belts and buttons and zippers, lips still gliding and biting and sucking, pulses pounding hard in their chests until Dean grabs something from his pocket before shoving his pants the rest of the way down, spinning Cas so he can press him back against the chalk board. Cas hikes his legs up and around Dean, letting Dean’s strength hold him up.

“God you look so good when you come. And no one knew but me.” Dean’s cock is slick and Cas’ mind complete fucking mush. Somewhere he knows they’re still in a class room. Something is telling him someone will be using this classroom later. That he shouldn’t be here, they shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be doing this, for about a dozen reasons he can think of just off the top of his head.

He cants his hips out, inviting, gritting his teeth when Dean pulls the toy free.

“This is gonna be over too soon, but I promise to make it up to you.” The soft words combined with a gentle kiss to his cheek just add to the pile of ‘what the fuck is really going on here’ that Cas has been struggling with for weeks.

It’s all forgotten when Dean presses himself forwards and pulls Cas down, cock stretching him wide and giving him the sweet sensation of completeness that he can only really get with Dean’s thick, hard dick in his ass. He doesn’t wait, he doesn’t pause, Dean just moves. Immediately he’s pounding Cas roughly against the chalk board, Cas’ head falling back with a loud thud against the material while he rides it out, his own, half hard cock trying valiantly to come back to life and bouncing against his stomach. He throws his arms around Dean’s shoulders and rides him, clenching around Dean and smirking at the complete bliss that covers his face. He’s beautiful when he’s so lost like this, wanton and needy and desperate for release. Cas can feel the tension in his shoulders, can see in the slackness of his mouth and feel in the randomness of his rhythm just how close he is. He wasn’t kidding when he said this would be fast.

“You gonna fill me up baby?” Cas lets his voice drop into the dangerously low and gravely tones that he knows Dean loves. “Come hard and then put your fucking little toy back, so I have to walk around with you inside all fucking day?”

“Fuck, Cas…” Dean’s voice is broken and strangled when he thrusts hard a few more times before dropping his head to Cas’ shoulder and biting down hard to muffle his shout when he comes. Cas keeps rolling his hips, milking Dean’s orgasm for everything he’s got. He doesn’t even flinch when he feels the hot mess spilling down his leg. Panting hard and mumbling against Cas’ neck, Dean groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful. And yes… I’m going to make you walk around and remember this the rest of the day.”

Maybe Dean Winchester isn’t the worst mistake Dr. Novak has made after all. 


	2. Finals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops my fingers slipped and wrote 4000 more words of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally a one shot. An anon at tumblr asked for more from Dean's POV and who am I to deny?  
> Edited at the last minute by the fabulous VeraBAdler.

Dean is in over his fucking head.

He’s got one week left.  Today is the last day of classes, then a week of finals, then he’ll be headed home for Christmas break for three weeks and when he returns, he won’t have to face this… thing… that he had never meant to happen.

As it stands he’s focused on the here and now, desperately avoiding anything that resembles the future.

And in the here and now he’s got a tie stuffed in his mouth, his arms captured in his own damn jacket behind him, folded basically in half over the arm of a couch and Dr. Novak’s cock buried in his ass.  He’s got no leverage and nothing touching his own length that even resembles enough friction and unlike certain archaeology professors, Dean has never been able to cum untouched.

Yeah, he’s not thinking about anything but right fucking now at the moment.

Cas’ hips hit his body hard, cock slamming in over and over, pressing against his prostate with each thrust so roughly that Dean feels tears forming in his eyes from how badly he needs release.  The whine in the back of his throat escapes without permission and he jerks at the quick sting of Cas smacking the side of his hips.

Dean is sure Cas is trying to reprimand him, to remind him he’s supposed to be absolutely silent or he will regret it, but he’s too busy losing himself inside of Dean, his movements stuttered and shaky until Dean can feel the warmth of his cum dripping down his own leg and Cas collapses over him.  

With a rough hand Cas grabs Dean’s chin, pulling his head up and back just enough that it’s this side of uncomfortable and fuck it, Dean has already lost this game.  He whines again, straining to look further back while at the same time defiantly clenching his ass around the cock still pulsing there.

Cas nips at his jaw while he shakes through the end of his orgasm, voice low and dangerous in Dean’s ear.  “I said, NO noises, Mr. Winchester.  I should take off marks for that.”  

The edge to his tone makes Dean shake but he just looks at him pleadingly, tie still keeping his words burning in his chest.

“No, Dean.  You don’t get to cum.  Not after you defied me like that.”  Despite his tone, Cas strokes his hand softly around the growing red welt of his own hand print at Dean’s hip.  His touch is warm and soothing and Dean shuts his eyes and loses himself to it.  “This is our last class together and I had not, until this moment, thought of a sufficient rebuttal for the stunt you pulled at the mid-term.  I think this will do though.”  Cas bites playfully at Dean’s earlobe, lifting them both to standing and finally slipping out leaving Dean feeling achingly empty and void.  Carefully, he pulls the tie from Dean’s mouth and uses it to clean him up, fingers dragging along sensitive flesh and teasing at his still loose hole, dragging along his perineum and cupping at his balls. Dean bites his lip, rolling his shoulders to right his jacket.  He could take care of himself, arms finally free. Thirty seconds would be more than enough and he would be lost to it, body clenching and cumming all over Dr. Novak’s expensive fucking couch.

“Last class together?”  He manages to breathe out finally, catching the worry in Cas’ eyes when they shift around to face each other and trying to ignore the ache in his voice that has nothing to do with how red and hard his cock is right now.

“Yeah baby.  Last class.  You won’t even get to torture me through the final because you’re exempt remember?”  He distracts Dean with soft kisses to the semi-permanent hickey at his neck and then up along the hard line of his jaw, teasing his pulse point beneath his ear and smiling against his skin when Dean’s entire body shudders.  One hand is still ghosting along the skin of Dean’s lower half, around the base of his cock and along his sack.  But it’s been too long, the edge is gone and he’s still hard but nowhere near as close to losing it.  “That’s what you get for having perfect attendance and acing every test… despite your own self-inflicted distractions.”  

Dean is about to reply when Cas drops to his knees.  All he can do is stare wide eyed in anticipation, dropping his head back with a curse when Cas just grabs something from his pocket and looks up with a smirk.  “I told you no.  And this just reinforces that.”  He stands, holding out a small fabric pouch and dangling it between his fingers.

“Whatever is in there is way too small to do me any good after getting fucked by your fat cock.”  

“Kiss-ass.” Cas bites back.  

“You know you like it, baby, especially when you’re hard and leaking and I lick your tight little…”  Cas shuts him up with a hard kiss, Dean tripping backwards until he’s pressed against the wall and giving in to it.  They are a clash of teeth and tongues and hot, wet, needy movements.  Dean wants to hold onto him and finds himself doing so, sliding a hand up underneath his professor’s shirt, fingers against weathered skin, pulling him in tighter like he never wants to let go.  

And fuck it all, he really doesn’t.  

What gets him the most, though, is that Cas just sort of goes with it, slowing down their pace and their tenacity until it’s almost tender, like they’re long-term lovers stealing a few moments of intimacy.

That is all kinds of fucked up beyond anything they’ve done so far this semester.

Which is a lot.

Cas breaks the moment first, clearing his throat. Dean chases his lips as he pulls away.  “As I was saying.”  He’s looking anywhere but into Dean’s gaze, pulling a stretchy cockring from the bag and moving to put in in place.  It’s cool and tight at the base of Dean’s cock and a little heavier than he expects. He figures out why when Cas clicks something between his fingers and the little silver bullet that’s hidden within hums to life.  Sparks of heat and pleasure shoot through his body, hips jerking forward.

“Fuck, Cas.”  His knees are weak and he really wants to fuck that cocky little grin on Cas’ lips right off his smug face.  It’s nowhere near enough to get him off, but just enough to drive him crazy.

“Pull your pants up.”  Cas clicks something again and the vibrations are gone and if Dean groans just a little bit at the lack of stimulation, fuck it.  He’s already screwed.  Cas dresses himself just as he’d instructed Dean to do, straightening his shirt and buttons after fastening his pants and his belt.  He tosses the tie in the trash just as Dean is trying to find the best way to tuck himself in his pants so that he can actually walk down the hallway.  

Just as he thinks he’s got it, Cas grabs the door and releases the dead bolt, stepping into the hallway.  He pauses, turning and pointing at Dean.  “Don’t be late for class.”  There’s a click from the contraption in his fingers and Dean stumbles backwards, the new angle of everything and the tightness of his jeans too much while the sensations shoot through his spine.  Cas clicks it off again and walks down the hall, laughing his ass off.

 

***

 

Class is pure hell.

It’s bad enough that Dr. Novak is the kind of teacher who is still teaching very important material that will totally be on the test (even if Dean doesn’t have to take it), without everything else to go along with it.  Dean has tuned out his words from the get-go, paying attention instead to the way he moves, trying to guess when he’ll be set off, when he’ll get the shock of vibration that keeps him half-hard and straining against his jeans.  Problem is, Dr. Novak has a remote control device for his laptop that moves the damn PowerPoint slides forward and is constantly clicking something in his hands.  Every now and then he even points it at Dean with a smirk, making him jump at his desk in anticipation despite the fact that nothing fucking happens.  The other problem, of course, is that Dean can tell that Cas had just been properly sexed -- hair a mess, tie gone, sleeves of his bright white shirt rolled up and showing off his deeply tanned arms.  Even without the little jolt of pleasure that comes at random intervals, Dean is having a hard time keeping his thoughts on anything but the man at the front of the classroom.  The top of his shirt isn’t even fucking buttoned, collar slightly askew and the only thing Dean can focus on is how badly he wants to mark that neck up from top to bottom, beyond the lines of his shirt and along his chest.  He hasn’t been allowed to all semester -- fully aware of how bad it would look for a professor to sport any number of hickeys.  Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from marking him everywhere else he could: on his chest, his hips, his ass.  Dean has a few marks of his own, not just the one on Cas’ favorite spot on his neck.  He wears them with pride, pressing his fingers to one of them now, above his nipple, while Cas is looking at him.  It’s a jolt of memories, of all the afternoons spent over a hard surface, sharing and giving his body and being offered so much in return.  Dean can’t remember anyone else he’s ever stuck around so long for, anyone else he’s wanted to return to time after time.

The toy around his cock jolts to life and Dean fucking loses it.  

He squirms in his chair and makes a point to find the good professor’s gaze, dropping his jaw and tilting his head back just enough so Cas KNOWS what sounds would be coming from his mouth if he wasn’t in a room full of his peers.  

Thank god for back rows.

The way Cas’ words stutter momentarily gives Dean a brief sense of victory but he doesn’t give in.  Every time he’s set off he does something more lewd, rucking his shirt up a few inches, sucking on his fingers, doing his best fake silent orgasm.

Class gets let out ten minutes early.

Dean smirks when Dr. Novak excuses himself and is out of the door with the first three or four students, leaning back in his own chair and giving himself a moment to catch his breath.  He waits until the room is empty to follow him to his office, running a hand through his hair before pushing the door open.  What he finds is unexpected and makes him smirk questioningly before it’s his turn to be grabbed by the collar and manhandled.  Cas tugs him into the office, slamming the door behind him and locking it as he pushes Dean back against the heavy wood. His shirt is already unbuttoned, sleeves still rolled up to the elbow. The top of his pants is undone and he’s obviously hard again beneath the thick fabric.  The desk is completely void of any of its usual clutter and Dean suddenly has a very good idea of where this party is headed.

“Christ, Cas.”  Dean chokes out into the hard kiss, bucking up against him.  Cas’ cock presses into his hip, his own pulsing hard in its prison.  “I really need to fuck you now.”

“Patience.”  He growls back, pulling Dean’s shirt up and over his head, tossing it behind them before dropping to his knees, properly this time.  Dean tries to help with his jeans, he really does.  But his fingers are shaking too hard to be of any use and he has to lean back and go with it, letting Cas do the work until the cold air of the office hits his dick and all he can do is groan and grip into the soft strands of his teacher’s hair.  

Cas teases him, flicking his tongue against the head, suckling just at the tip, not even wrapping his hand around Dean’s length, and Dean’s knees are already threatening to give out completely.  

“I want you to fuck my face, Dean.”  He tilts his head far back, mouth open and inviting, and the warmth of his breath along Dean’s cock makes him hear strange things.

“What?”  Dean looks down, mind foggy and lost, breath caught in his chest at the look of complete abandon in Cas’ eyes.  And then he gets it, he puts together what was said with what is going on, and he caresses Cas’ face before rocking his hips forward.  The groan that Cas gives him goes straight through Dean, sitting heavy in his belly while the tightness of his need pulls him in every direction.  

He grips Cas’ hair tighter and starts to move.  Cas’ mouth is so hot, lips tight and soft around Dean, and he’s doing what he can with his tongue with what little control he has.  Dean starts carefully, eventually looking down to see Cas nod around his dick and press himself further forward, and Dean just fucking lets go.  He moves in a rough and steady pace, burying himself into the open and inviting heat of Cas’ mouth, feeling his throat clench around him.  “You like that, don’t you baby?”  he grits out while every inch of his body starts to tighten.  He can feel it in the way his toes curl and how his lower body is clenching, wound tighter and tighter.  “You want me to cum down your throat?  Let you swallow every last drop?”  When Cas starts humming around his dick the edge of pleasure turns sharp in Dean’s spine, pulling at him and making him lose his rhythm and almost any sense of control.

Even as close as he is, as hard as he can feel his climax about to hit him, and as lost as he’s let himself become in the tightness of Cas’ lips, the moment Cas taps his knee three times he pulls away, making decidedly unmanly and needy moans of disapproval.  “Why…?”  he sobs with his head dropped back against the door.  He needs to cum so badly it almost hurts.  

He’s weak-kneed and his body is easily manipulated when Cas stands and presses him back against the desk with rough and greedy kisses. “I know. I know, baby, and I’m sorry.  Last time, I promise. I just need to ride you, I need you so fucking bad, you have no idea.”  Cas is dropping his pants and kicking out of them, pushing Dean back until they’re both on the top of the desk.

“I think I fucking do,”  Dean grits out, tugging Cas forward while he slides back on the smooth wood, watching in earnest the way Cas’ cock jerks at being manhandled.  They’re kissing again, rough and sharp while Dean moves to try and open Cas up.  When he slides his hand along Cas’ ass he pulls back with a gasp.

“How long have you had that in?”  He stares in awe at Cas’ face, the way he looks bashful and innocent, and the the way he nearly shouts when Dean makes a good firm push at the toy in Cas’ hole.  “Fucking hell, Cas.  You’ve had it in all day haven’t you?”

Through tightly pressed lips Cas nods, small, wanton noises coming from his throat.  Dean lifts up a little further, getting a little rougher with the plug and growling against Cas’ ear.  “You had this in when you fucked me too?  Had you all stuffed and full while you were pounding my ass?”  

“Fuck… Dean.”   He works himself in tandem with Dean’s control of the toy and all Dean wants to do with the vision before him is lick every inch of his fucking skin.  Cas’ head has fallen back, Dean’s name a prayer on his lips, long neck bared and inviting.  The muscles of his chest are jumping and shaking.  The open, crisp white shirt is a stark contrast to the weathered and tan skin that comes from years of working in wind and sand and sun every summer and long break.  

It’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen.

For a small amount of time he forgets his own wants and needs and just marvels at the sight before him.  Unable to stop himself, Dean lifts up a little further, pressing them chest to chest and dragging the tip of his nose up the hard line of Cas’ neck.  He inhales the older man’s heavy scent -- fresh soap beneath old books -- before pressing a tender kiss just below his ear, followed by a questioning drag of his teeth.  When Cas tilts his head out to the side, opening himself up even more, Dean doesn’t need to be told twice, biting down hard and sucking at the skin, letting up to soothe the flesh with careful laps of his tongue.  He alternates between sucking and biting and licking, the sounds of approval and pleasure coming from Cas just spurring him on.  

The motion of Cas’ hips makes their cocks slide together and the shock that shoots through Dean’s system means he can’t wait anymore and pulls the toy free of his lover’s body.  

Instantly with the program, Cas pulls the little remote control and a small packet from his shirt pocket and Dean has to laugh at that, dropping his head against Cas’ chest, because the two of them have apparently started keeping emergency lube everywhere.  Any time they are together is apparently a cause for emergency lube.  While he’s busy laughing at what his life has become, Cas is already moving down on his cock and suddenly nothing but the tightness and warmth enveloping him matters any more.  When their bodies are flush, Cas surprises him by pausing to kiss him, lifting his face with a finger just under his chin.  More than the clench of tight muscles around his cock, more than the torture of being denied release for so long and how close he is to spilling in Cas just from being buried so deeply, it’s the kiss that makes him feel like he’s falling through the air and that his skin is warm and touched by sunlight.  His arms are wrapped around Cas’ strong torso, under his shirt, hands dragging up his back until he’s gripping tightly at his shoulders.  Around his face and in his hair he feels Cas’ hands caressing him like he never really has before, playing with his hair and scratching his nails along his scalp and down his neck.  Somewhere between worrying about how much he needs this and Dean forgetting his own name, Cas starts to move.  Unable to focus any energy elsewhere, Dean drops his head back, breaking the kiss and trying to remember how to breathe.  Cas gives him one last kiss along his jawline then a gentle shove to encourage Dean to lay back, which he does, head hitting the desk with a soft thud.  He watches Cas get into his own rhythm, gripping at his legs and sliding his hands down until his fingers rest in the soft bend beneath Cas’ knees.  

For a moment he thinks he’s going to be slow and gentle, right up until Cas leans back and grips Dean’s calves and fucking winks at him.  “Tell me what you want, baby.”  He lifts his hips high and slams them back down, impaling himself on Dean’s cock.

“Aw, fuck!”  Dean’s head falls back against the desk again, harder this time, but the pain doesn’t even register.  “You, want you, Cas.  Need you so bad.  Don’t stop.”  

And he lifts again, rolling back down with enough force that Dean loses the air in his lungs and can barely keep his grip on Cas’ legs.  He doesn’t stop, moving harder and harder, each snap of his hips another bright flash of light behind Dean’s eyelids and less and less air he can take into his lungs.  Neither is as quiet as they’ve been all semester, something in each of them giving up all sense of pretense and subtlety to just be lost in one another.  When Cas’ hips stutter, the force of his rolls faltering, Dean grabs him as tight as he can, does his best to get leverage against the desk and fucks up hard, looking down and nearly losing it as he watches himself slide into Cas over and over.  Cas’ breath is hitching, words falling from his mouth -- a mixture of curses and Dean’s name -- until he’s almost unintelligible as he cums, hot and thick and -- of fucking course -- untouched over Dean’s chest and stomach.  Above him Cas is shaking, hands at his legs nearly losing their grip.  The wetness on his skin adds to the tight pull of the coil in Dean’s gut, the way his spine feels like it’s contracting further and further until his back is arching off the desk and the clench of Cas around him snaps whatever strings were still taut and holding him together.  He falls silent and can’t breathe while everything in his body explodes, tugging Cas down hard and not letting him move because he doesn’t think he’d be able to survive any more stimulation as he cums.  His fingers clutch the soft flesh of Cas’ legs hard enough to leave bruises.  

Feeling the slowly radiating relaxation that comes at the end of his climax, Dean is finally able to breathe again.  The first lungful of air is followed by a deep sigh and a quick kiss from Cas, who has apparently fallen forward in a boneless state, and thank god for flexible men because he’s basically folded in half on top of Dean.

They don’t say anything for a long time, lips and hands exploring each other in their blissed-out state with a softness that apologizes for each bruise and bump on the head, every bite mark and hickey that will be left behind.  Dean doesn’t want them to share any words, doesn’t want to acknowledge that they’re both sated and happy and still seeking out connection that they usually avoid at the end of the day.  Because, as Cas had pointed out earlier, this was their last class together.  It doesn’t even cross Dean’s mind that they don’t need to have class together to see each other. All he can focus on is that after today, he’ll have no pretense to see Cas, no excuse for going to his office at random intervals during the day.  

Breaking him out of his thoughts is the click of a button and the shock of vibrations against his sack, come and gone almost as fast as it starts but making his over-sensitive skin crawl and his whole body jerk.  “Christ, Cas.”  He groans.

Cas grins, his wicked, evil, conniving grin that Dean is always looking forward to, and pecks another quick kiss to Dean’s nose before answering.  “You know you like it.”

Dean cups his face, staring for what would possibly be considered a little too long, searching Cas’ eyes which hold nothing but admiration and desire and Dean can’t think of anything else to say except, “Yeah.  Yeah, I really do.”

 


End file.
